


love you like i'm gonna lose you

by tooomuchcoffee



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gallavich, Hurt/Comfort, Ian Gallagher Loves Mickey Milkovich, M/M, Season/Series 10, set right after season 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:22:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26994346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tooomuchcoffee/pseuds/tooomuchcoffee
Summary: mickey realizes that the honeymoon phase is over for him and his husband... maybe it's too late to fix them.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 6
Kudos: 131





	love you like i'm gonna lose you

**Author's Note:**

> okay i'm sorry i haven't posted in forever and i will try to post more SKAM fics but i have so many Shameless fics that i start writing and never finish so i picked a short one i wrote at the beginning of the year and finished it just to get back in the groove of writing lol
> 
> anyway, i hope you enjoy this. i know this has been written a million times but i had to. you know i had to do it to em.

They’d only been married for a month and Mickey was sure the honeymoon phase was over. He was convinced Ian didn’t give a shit about him anymore. Once Ian’s leg healed up and he got a real job at a real hospital, he quickly became very busy. He’d leave early in the morning, and get home late in the evening and go right to sleep, claiming he’d already eaten when Mickey offered him dinner. Nothing Mickey did seemed like it was enough to get his attention. He felt invisible, but he would never admit that. There’s no way he’s going to go to Ian and start begging him to spend more time with him, like some bitch. He didn’t know what to do though, and maybe talking _would_ actually achieve something.

Late Friday night, he was sitting at the dining table, waiting for Ian to get home early, like he said he would. Mickey did the most romantic thing he could think of – ordered Chinese food – and was losing hope fast that Ian was going to show up.

At half-past eleven, Ian came home. Mickey jogged down the stairs to see his husband, drunk and struggling to untie his shoes. He glared at him, wanting to smack him on his ginger head.

“Mick!” Ian shouts once he notices him, looking up at him with a gummy grin. Mickey just glares at him and that grin slowly slides off his face.

“You said you were coming home early,” Mickey grunted. Ian just let out a sigh and a nervous laugh. He was clearly too drunk for this conversation.

“Well, everyone wanted to go out for a drink, it was fun, you coulda come,” Ian says, starting to walk up the stairs.

“You didn’t fucking invite me, you dick. I got us dinner. I thought we could actually spend some fucking time together,” Mickey huffed, pushing past Ian to start storming to the kitchen. He needed a beer _now_.

“I didn’t fucking know you were gonna do that,” Ian slurred, sounding pissed off which only pissed Mickey off more. _He has no right to be pissed._ Mickey grumbled angrily before swinging the fridge door open.

“By the way, you shouldn’t be drunk on your meds, asshole. What the fuck were you thinking?” Mickey snapped. He realized there was no beer in the fridge and he was staring at countless leftovers, but he didn’t care at this point. He slammed the door shut and turned to glare at Ian. He had started this fight, he was going to end it. He didn’t necessarily know what that meant, but fuck it. Before he could continue, Ian scoffed at him.

“Jesus Christ, you gonna play nurse with me again,” Ian snarls, making Mickey take a step back like he had punched him. He stared at Ian, hurt plain on his face. Ian’s eyebrows creased together angrily and his chin jutted out, like it did when he was being stubborn.

“Fuck you,” Mickey hit back. “Fuck me for giving a shit, right? I don’t even know why I try, it’s not like _you_ care. Not like you give a shit about me,” Mickey didn’t mean to say exactly what he was thinking but whatever. He looked down at his feet so he didn’t have to look at Ian’s face anymore.

“Come on, Mick,” Ian’s voice croaked, like tears were welling up in his throat. _Fucking good,_ Mickey thought, vindictively, as tears filled his own eyes. “You know that’s not true,” He sounded a whole lot more sober now.

“No, I fucking don’t,” Mickey growled. He wanted so badly to get out, leave and slam the door and get blackout drunk at some bar, but they were married now. No matter how mad he was he didn’t want to do that to Ian. He regrets even bringing this shit up.

“Mickey – “

“There’s food in the fridge for you,” Mickey finally said, before practically running upstairs and locking himself in the bathroom. He knew this was a lot less dramatic than fights they’d had in the past but it still hurt. It hurt knowing Ian had no idea he was doing this to him. Ian didn’t miss him like he did. Ian didn’t need him anymore.

Mickey angrily turned on the shower so no one thought he was crying in the bathroom like a teenage girl.

_~~~_

Ian watched the stairs, half expecting Mickey to come back down after slamming a door shut. He didn’t really know what just happened. His drunk brain was a couple steps behind, but it did understand that there was food in the fridge. Just going through the motions, he heated up the noodles and ate at the dining table in silence, listening closely to the running shower going upstairs. Mickey thought he didn’t care about him. Ian wracked his brain for reasons as to why Mickey would think this and as he sobered up because of the food, it started to come together. He got them dinner, he planned the closest thing to a date that he could and Ian came home late, drunk and telling him he should’ve come with him. He didn’t call, didn’t text, and Mickey wanted to surprise him by doing something so kind.

Ian felt like an absolute piece of shit. He couldn’t even finish his noodles, he just stuffed it back in the fridge and trudged upstairs. Mickey was still in the shower, so Ian stripped down to his boxers and climbed onto his side of the bed, facing the wall.

Ian felt his chest constrict as soon as he smelled Mickey on the sheets. They hadn’t held each other in weeks. Sex was just a means to an end and not making love anymore. What was he doing? Why was he doing this to Mickey? He closed his eyes tightly as tears began blurring his vision.

Mickey was going to leave, it was inevitable. Why would he stay when he thinks Ian doesn’t even love him? Ian felt his heart crack in two as he thought about Mickey leaving him after all this.

He tensed when he heard the bedroom door creak open. He didn’t even realize the shower had turned off. He stayed still, pretending to sleep as Mickey changed clothes and then carefully got under the covers. Ian tried his best not to sniffle, but it hurt knowing Mickey was right there but so far away. Ian did this to himself. He always manages to fuck everything up.

_~~~_

Ian woke up to sparkling sunshine flowing through the window. The bed felt wonderfully soft and his body was so heavy, just sinking into the mattress. He looked over to see Mickey’s black hair spread across the pillow and that’s when he realized Mickey’s face was pressed against his bicep. Mickey’s leg was thrown across his hip, holding him close to him. Ian smiled down at his boyfriend. No, _husband_ , Ian thought with a big grin.

The window was open which let the smell of fresh morning dew flood into their bedroom. It smelled like lavender and roses, which was new for the Gallagher house. Ian lifted his heavy arm to caress his husband’s face, tracing along the freckles on his cheeks. Mickey inhaled sharply and his eyes fluttered open. Ian smiled so wide it hurt.

“You’re not mad at me anymore?” He whispered to him. Mickey looked up at him and stared for a bit too long. It made Ian nervous, and suddenly he felt like there was a rock in his stomach.

“Ian, this is it,” Mickey says, monotone. Ian stares at him, feeling his heart race and suddenly it was like thunderclouds filled the sky. The room was dark and gloomy and he felt claustrophobic all of a sudden.

“What?” Ian whispered, shocked.

“We never should’ve gotten married… This was all a mistake,” Mickey says as he pushes away from Ian. Frantic, Ian tries to reach out but his arms won’t move no matter how hard he tries. Mickey’s getting up from the bed and walking out the door and Ian can’t even sit up. He feels like he’s suffocating as he uses every muscle in his body to try and run after the love of his life but he can’t move, like he’s paralyzed.

“Ian?”

The room is dark and his chest is heaving like he just ran fifteen miles.

“Jesus Ian, you’re sweating, what the hell’s wrong with you?” He heard Mickey grumble and suddenly the bedside lamp is being switched on. Ian opens his eyes to see Mickey leaning over him to turn the light on. He goes to lean back but Ian grabs his wrist, just staring at him.

“What?” Mickey asks, eyes wide and staring down at his sweaty husband. Ian just looks at him though, still panting. “Dude, you’re scaring me,”

“I’m sorry,” He breathes out. He looks down at his arm gripping Mickey’s wrist and realizes it was all a dream. He can move. He needs to move. Quickly, he jolts up and embraces Mickey into his arms.

“Hey!” Mickey complains, as Ian squeezes him too tightly and at an awkward angle for the two of them. Ian readjusts them so that he’s sitting in his lap more comfortably and Mickey can’t help but relax as Ian’s strong arms surround him, even if they’re currently very sweaty strong arms. “What’s wrong with you, man?” He asks, voice softer than before now that he realizes how much Ian needs this to calm down. With his head pressed to Ian’s chest he can hear his heartbeat slowing down gradually.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry I’m such a dick and I fuck everything up between us all the time… I’m really sorry, just _please_ …” Ian sounds like he’s getting choked up and Mickey hates it. He looks up and sees Ian with his eyes squeezed shut, and face scrunched up in pain. He started to untangle himself from Ian’s hold and noticed Ian’s body go lax. He dropped his head down in shame.

“Ian,” Mickey whispered.

“Please don’t go,” Ian pleaded, voice thin, sounding like he’d start crying at any moment. He looked pathetic. Mickey leaned into his space and cupped his hands around his husband’s face. Ian opened his eyes, surprise evident on his face. Mickey carefully smoothed out the tense lines on his face and wiped away the stray tears that had fallen. He didn’t need to say anything, he never did when it came to Ian.

He pushed Ian’s chest to make him lie back down and he curled up next to him with his head close to his on the same pillow. Ian’s breathing had finally calmed down, but he still watched every move Mickey made. Mickey brought his arm up to rest his palm on Ian’s cheek and brought his lips to his temple. Ian closed his eyes in relief as he finally seemed to relax. Things will get better; both of them would make sure of that.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading :) if you have any prompts you want me to write (SKAM or Shameless), let me know in the comments!


End file.
